During the time of the West Conquest, in the U.S.

A, new settlers arrived on the Comanche

hunting grounds. It was during a really beautiful winter, characterized by a really sunny weather,
despite of the white snow viewable on the ground. The land was made of mountains and vast plains
which were as marvellous and breathtaking as the most ancient and incredible of the Wonders. In
the midst of this memorable winter, two men were walking, rifles to the shoulder, looking tired but
wide-awake. They were obviously looking for something. The first man started to talk and said:
“Harry, what do you think? Where can she be?” he asked his mate.
“I don’t know, Harold, we can turn next this bush and see what happens.” he answered back.
Right after this little talk, they continued to walk and saw an Indian village. It triggered them
because their house was burnt weeks before by indigenous people, who had given them a previous
warning. A sudden rage overwhelmed them and they decided, on an impulse, to attack this “filthy
village”.
A wave of hatred poured out through a tide of corpses. Harry and Harold, as the good lumberjacks
they were, knew how to defend themselves against “this type of creature”, treating them like beasts
and shooting at them, in a sinister laugh. The bodies of the men and women who were
understanding indigenous fell down, stacking like goods. After the village looked “clear” (as harold
said) of Indians, they both put their rifles back on their shoulders and they look at each other
joyfully, saying “Great job !”. But they didn't expect someone hiding in a pit, with a knife in their
hand. This person jumped out of this pit and rushed straight to Harry, who was disembowelled and
fell on the floor. Harold turned right around and hit who he thinks was a woman in the jugular. She
died instantly, contrary to Harry who suffered during long minutes. Harold hurried to his mate and
tried to stop the hemorrhage. Nevertheless, Harry was condemned. His last words were:
“You owe me and all our family to take the girl back to our place, she deserves to see the sun rise
once again. I beg you to go, every morning, to the graveyard, on the tombstone of my wife, and
thank her for her kindness. Every week, change the flowers that are put on the little stool next to her
and wash the tombstone, with all the goodness you can find in you. Those are everything I ask for.
You can bury me or let me wither here, as you want.” said Harry, sobbing.
“I'll do what you wish. Thanks again for being such a brother to me and being part of the family
even though you weren't born in.” answered Harold, already nostaligic of their relationship.
Harold saw the girl he was looking for half hidden behind a dead tree and ran at her, took her in his
arms, put her on his back and they begin their way back to their freshly burnt house.

Every day, during the rise of the sun,

we could see, from the bottom of the moutain,
a shadow,
leaning on a tombstone,
praying as if it had only that left.

On this tombstone was written :

Harry ( MDCCCLVI ) & Esmeralda ( MDCCCXLIII )
Wife & Husband, dead for their family
Always beloved.